The car pulled beside him and a gruff voice said, “Stop right there.” Sooley stopped and waited as two policemen, both white, got out and slowly made their way over to confront him. His knees were trembling, his hands shaking.
One flashed a bright light into his face, then clicked it off. A nearby streetlamp shone enough for the three to see one another clearly. Officer Swain said, “May we ask where you’re going?” He was polite and even smiled.
“Yes sir. I’m a student at Central and I’m just trying to get back to campus.”
“Do you have a weapon? Anything in your pockets?”
“No sir. I’m a student.”
“We heard that. Please remove your hands from your pockets. Slowly.”
Sooley did as he was instructed.
Swain said, “Okay. You’re not required to show us any ID, but it might be helpful if you did.”
“Sure. My ID is in my pocket. Shall I reach for it?”
“Go ahead.”
He slowly reached into a front pocket of his jeans and handed his student ID to Swain, who studied it for a moment and asked, “What kinda name is Sooleymon?”
“African. I’m from South Sudan. I play basketball for Central.”
“How tall are you?”
“Six six.”
“You’re only eighteen?”
“Yes sir.”
Swain handed the card back and looked at Gibson, who said, “I’m not sure you’re safe in this neighborhood.”
The neighborhood was perfectly safe, but for the police who were causing trouble, but Samuel only nodded.
Swain pointed and said, “Central is to the south and you’re headed west.”
“I’m lost.”
They laughed and looked at each other. Swain said, “Okay, we’ll make you an offer. Get in the back seat and we’ll take you to the campus. It’s cold, and you’re lost, so we’ll just give you a ride, okay?”
Sooley looked at the car and glanced around, uncertain.
Swain sensed his hesitation and said, “You don’t have to. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re not under arrest. It’s just a friendly ride. I swear.”
Sooley got in the back seat. They rode for a few minutes and Gibson, the driver, said, “You guys have lost four in a row. What’s going on?”
Sooley was gawking at the gadgets up front. A busy computer screen. Radios. Scanners. Of course, he had never been inside a police car. “Rough schedule,” he said. “We opened with some tough games, as always.”
Swain grunted and said, “Well, you got an easy one tomorrow. Bluefield State. Where the hell is that?”
“I don’t know, sir, I’m lost right now. Never heard of them. I’m a redshirt and won’t play this year.”
Gibson said, “I like Coach Britt. Great guy. Rumor is he might be moving on after this year.”
“I don’t know. Coaches, they don’t talk to us about stuff like that. I guess you guys are Duke fans.”
“Not me, can’t stand ’em. I pull for the Tar Heels. Swain here is a Wolfpacker.”
The car turned and Sooley recognized the street. They were indeed headed to the Central campus. As the front gate came into view, Swain pointed to a parking lot and said, “Pull in there.” Gibson did so and stopped the car.
Swain turned around and said, “Just so you won’t run the risk of being embarrassed, we’ll let you out right here. Okay?”
“Yes sir. Thank you.”
“Good luck with the season, Mr. Sooleymon.”
“Thank you.”
CHAPTER 31
After three weeks on the continent, Ecko was tired and homesick and missed his family. He had scouted a tournament in Cape Town, attended conferences in Accra and Nairobi, and watched a dozen games with coaching friends in Senegal, Cameroon, and Nigeria. He’d logged 8,000 miles between countries and spent Thanksgiving Day stranded in an airport in Accra, the capital of Ghana.
But he had one more stop, one that he could not, in good conscience, blow off, though he desperately wanted to. He landed in Kampala and was met at the airport by an old friend named Nestor Kymm, a coach of the Ugandan national team. Kymm’s brother ranked high in the government and knew which strings to pull. Early the next morning they drove to Entebbe International Airport and were directed to the cargo field far away from the main terminal. There they met a smartly dressed officer named Joseph something or other. Ecko could neither pronounce nor spell the man’s last name so he simply called him “sir.” Joseph seemed to expect this.